


Wishes

by SusanaR



Series: Desperate Hours Alternative Universe G version (DH AU G) [20]
Category: Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Backstory, F/M, Family, Gen, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Mother-Son Relationship, Romance, Spies & Secret Agents, Subterfuge, Threats, Villains
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-27
Updated: 2013-01-27
Packaged: 2017-11-27 01:55:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/656788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SusanaR/pseuds/SusanaR
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Eowyn finds her children perplexing, and reflects upon her own youthful goals.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wishes

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: The career choice of Eowyn and Faramir's daughter Haleth is detailed in "Captain Dervorin of the Silent Service takes a New Recruit" and in "Not My Daughter." By the time this story takes place, Haleth is done with training and an apprenticeship of sorts, and has been offered a promotion and a commission. Eowyn still isn't sure about the whole idea, but Haleth is.

Fourth Age Gondor, some time after FO. 34 

"Haleth," Eowyn tried again as she sat down to breakfast with her two youngest children, "Just because you've earned something, because you can have it, doesn't mean that you must take it. You have other choices." 

Haleth's gray eyed gaze moved fondly to her mother, whilst stirring her tea. "I love you, Nana. But I'm not you. What I planned for, dreamed for, even plotted for when I had to...it is still what I want. I know that I could choose something else, anything else," Haleth added, stifling a chuckle at her mother's well-known persistence, "and you and Adar would support me. I appreciate that. I do. But joining the Silent Service, as an officer now rather than just a trainee...it is my choice. It's always been." 

Eowyn regrouped, "It's no life. It is...there will be no certainty, my river otter. You will have to be always alert, always on your guard. Please, Haley, reconsider." 

Haleth's gray gaze was unwavering, "But Nana, it's the life I want!" She said, sure and soft. Haleth had picked her words carefully; Eowyn was certain. 

"Bah." The white lady said, conceding the point with ill grace, "You are all your father's children." 

Haleth's eyes danced. "Not Elion." She pointed out, "He's your little healer. And he can't be subtle to save his life." 

Ecthelion, called Elion, stuck his tongue out at his sister, then laughingly dodged her half-hearted smack. Unsubtle he might be, but ungraceful he was not.

Eowyn smiled at her youngest children, glad to have them both home. 

And then Haleth left again, leaving her mother to remember her own wishes, when Eowyn had been so young... 

Rohan in T.A. 3018, Meduseld in Edoras 

"The wheat harvest was poor in the south." The cook whispered to her mistress as they pretended to plan the week's menu's, "But well enough in the north. If you will, my Lady, I think we should have Lord Cynefrid 'lose' some of it on the way to Edoras, and misplace it on a wagon headed south. My..." 

A whisper from the door...a faint sensation of cold. A momentary feeling of hopelessness, helplessness...the two women turned their attention in earnest to the menus. 

"Gladwine," Eowyn addressed the cook, just a bit too loudly, "I think that tonight's roast could use garlic. Lots of garlic. It is said to be good for ridding a home of foul ghosts." 

Gladwine hid a satisfied smile, though her eyes remained fearful for her mistress, who taunted the fiend. Grima, who held their King in thrall. 

The whisper faded, a brush of a cloak against a door. Gone, and the kitchen was as it had been. But Eowyn had learned to distrust even the silence, so she waited until late that night. 

Late, when those men who were feeding off of Grima's largesse were drunk and happy, and those men who cursed their inability to aid their King were drunk and depressed. When Grima himself was occupied, fondling a serving girl. He wanted Eowyn, but he did not yet have the support it would take to force her. He'd tried. They both bore the scars. 

But Eowyn still stood against Grima; carefully, though it did not seem so. Eowyn made herself seem his opposition. She flounced in frustration. Meanwhile, more quietly, she sent those men and women who were not ruined by depression, by Grima's dark spell, to Gladwine the cook, and Swidhun the stablemaster. Eowyn watched, she listened, and she marked. It was not easy for her; action rather than reflection was her nature. But being whatever she had to be, whatever she was needed to be, that was also her nature. Eowyn endured. 

Late that night, she went to Gladwine to complain that there hadn't been enough garlic. More quietly, she said, "Not Cynefrid." Eowyn had seen him tonight, seen defeat in his eyes, "Ask Hild instead. Tell her half the surplus is to go to Aldburg in the Eastfold, and half to the Hornburg in Helm's Deep. If the winter lingers, they will both see refugees." 

Gladwine nodded, and Eowyn paused. The din from the hall had shifted tone. It was time to to go to the hall, to speak loudly and scornfully of the days when Rohan's men had fought valiantly against more than their wineskins. To show Grima her face as his enemy, so that he continued to believe that her open disdain was all he had to fear. So that Grima watched her, and not Gladwine and Hild, not Swidhund and Anhaga. 

Eowyn strode toward the great Hall, wishing with all her might that things were different. 

Instead all was whispers, and fear. A defeat by poisoning, by a great man's falling asleep and failing to see his kingdom fall to darkness. 

Not while Eowyn was alive. But she had to be careful; cautious; clever. All things she hated. She wanted to be bold and brave. 

But Eowyn would be what she had to be, for Rohan to keep functioning. Long past when hope died, Eowyn would endure. But she wished....for a clear enemy, on a field of battle. One she could attack, and if fate was kind, even defeat. 

Fourth Age Gondor, some time after FO. 34 

Then the walkers had come, with the wizard who had been her husband's friend, and Eowyn's uncle was freed. The re-routed wheat fed them in the Hornburg, and Helm's Deep held again. 

After, Eowyn had made her own wish come true through deception. And through the good offices of men like Anhaga and Swidhund, who remembered how she had protected them all during Grima's reign. Remembered, and did not bother to mention to Eomer or Theoden-King that the White Lady had not remained in Rohan. 

Then Eowyn saw battle, and and found that she longed for peace. But Eowyn's daughter Haleth was different, and her battles would be different. A mother could only hope she would come home safe, every time.

"Don't worry, Nana." Her younger son Ecthelion reassured Eowyn with a gentle squeeze to her hand and a kiss to her cheek, "I packed her extra healing herbs and bandages, and Haley's careful. She'll be fine." 

Eowyn hugged him gratefully, and wondered when the youngest of her babies had grown so wise. "You're becoming so tall, Elion-mine." Eowyn observed in wonder, "Soon you will be at the academy, and the twins not long after you." It made Eowyn feel old to think that Eldarion's sons would soon enter arms training, though if fate was kind she would have at least twenty years, maybe even forty, before she was called to Mandos' halls. 

Elion straightened, and Eowyn saw for the first time a shade of herself in her youngest son, the cheerful, oft-indulged baby of their family. 

"I'm not going to the academy." Elion said firmly, "I want to keep learning healing from you and Uncle Elladan and Theli. I only have at most a century and a half to spend as a healer, and I don't want to waste any time falling off of horses and learning to hit things with a glorified stick." 

"Ai, Bema." Eowyn murmured, shocked. Mustering a smile for her determined, worried son, Eowyn said lightly, "Well, that should liven up our next visit to Minas Tirith," then added firmly, "you should tell your Adar." 

Elion's worried eyes decided Eowyn. She would fight for him, in this. 

"Do you think Ada will understand?" Elion asked doubtfully. Faramir was a good listener, but at Elion's age he'd already been several years at the academy, and even in peace time Faramir still spent part of every day with bow or sword. 

"I think...." Eowyn paused, "I think he will want you to have choices that he did not have. Do not fear, Elion, we will work something out. We may all need to be patient with eachother, and willing to compromise," Eowyn added firmly. Compromise wasn't Elion's best skill. "But we will figure it out. Do not fret, my dear little healer." 

After Faramir came home, and they had retired to the privacy of their bedchamber, Eowyn complained, "Your youngest daughter is impossible, and your youngest son is going to shock poor Aragorn when next they meet." 

Faramir's eyes laughed as he stole a kiss, "My youngest children, eh? Nothing to do with their mother, who was such a sweet and biddable lass, when she was young." 

Eowyn huffed a laugh as she relaxed against him, "I was what I had to be, until I could learn what I wished to be." 

"They'll be fine, love." Faramir reassured her, though she could tell he was worried about Haley and curious about Elion, "And Adar could use a shock. Our twin nephews have been visiting Dol Amroth, plaguing Alphros all this past month. I think that Aragorn misses them." Faramir massaged his wife's shoulders, relaxing her further, as he added, "Besides, Ada survived me...I'm sure that he can handle Elion's latest notion, too. Whatever it is."


End file.
